


Day's End

by jujus_writing_corner



Series: Whumptober 2020 [13]
Category: Real Person Fiction, Youtube RPF
Genre: Angst and Humor, Delayed Drowning, Drowning, Gen, Humor, This fic is very silly until it isn't, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26990347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujus_writing_corner/pseuds/jujus_writing_corner
Summary: Wilford pesters Dark into listening to the trouble he got into and how he made it out. Unfortunately, Wilford isn't as unscathed by the day's events as he and Dark think.Whumptober 2020 Day 13: Breathe In Breathe OutPrompt: Delayed Drowning
Relationships: Darkiplier & Wilford Warfstache
Series: Whumptober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947961
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Day's End

**Author's Note:**

> It's time for this Whumptober's Kill-Wilford-While-Dark-Watches Day! :D Wilf's too popular to die forever, but it's still pretty brutal ;w;
> 
> Enjoy!

Dark is working in his office one peaceful evening, and he should’ve known it wouldn’t be peaceful for long. He’s not half-done reading over a document when he hears a familiar voice by his ear.

“Heeeeeeere’s Wilfy!!”

Dark doesn’t look up from his document.

“Wilford, _please,_ I’m busy.”

“You’re always busy!” Wilford whines. Dark still isn’t looking at him, but he can hear the pout in Wilford’s voice. “Come on, I just had the most exciting day! Let me tell you about it!”

“Are the police involved?”

“Only a little. I outran them, I swear!”

“Then I don’t need to know, nor do I want to.”

There’s a short silence as Dark continues to work, and Wilford pauses to think. He poofs away from beside Dark to the front of his desk, making himself harder for Dark to ignore.

“Darkyyyyy, come on, don’t you have time for your old pal Wilford anymore?” Wilford groans theatrically. Dark suppresses an eyeroll.

“I’ll have time in an hour when I’m done with this, happy?”

“Nope, that’s too long! Hmm…I’ve got an idea!”

The document in Dark’s hands disappears in a poof of pink. Dark jolts in his seat, surprised and frustrated.

“Wilford–!” He lifts his head to shout at Wilford, only for Wilford’s finger to be right in front of his face.

“Boop~!” Wilford says, poking Dark’s nose.

Dark’s aura cracks and explodes out behind him, and it takes all of his strength not to strangle Wilford with his bare hands. After several seconds, he finally sighs, resigned, and slumps forward on his elbows, one hand up to rub away his newly-forming headache.

“Fine, Wil, tell me about your day,” he says, half-heartedly gesturing for Wilford to speak.

“Bully!” Wilford exclaims. “So, there I was, bored out of my skull looking for something fun to do. Then I saw a dog tied to a streetlamp by a store, and was struck with a brilliant plan!”

“Did you steal the dog, Wil?”

“Spoilers, Dark!” Wilford laughs, “But yes, I did steal the dog. Her collar said ‘Maxine,’ but she looked more like a ‘Betty.’ So Betty and I went to a dog park, and there were _so many_ dogs there! And dogs are like potato chips, you know, you can’t stop at just one!”

“I’m sure. Exactly how many dogs did you take, Wil?”

“Hell if I know. Lost count at a dozen.”

“Don’t tell me you brought them here, Wil. You know pets aren’t allowed.”

“Well, I was _going_ to, but someone must’ve called the cops,” Wilford says with a disappointed frown. He brightens quickly as he continues his story. “So I poofed me and the dogs into the nearest car, used magic to get it going, and led the cops in a high-speed chase! Oh, you should’ve seen it, Darky! I was weaving in and out of traffic, I went up on the sidewalk a few times, Betty puked in the backseat, and I didn’t so much as pop a tire!”

“So you outran them?” Dark asks with a raised eyebrow.

“In a manner of speaking,” Wilford replies brightly, “I accidentally drove off a pier.”

_“Wil,”_ Dark groans.

“Don’t worry! As soon as I realized what happened I poofed the dogs onto the dock! They never even got wet, I promise. They were all just fine, even Betty.”

“What about _you?”_

“Well, it was a bit of a jam, I have to admit. I didn’t want to give up the dogs yet, but I also didn’t want to get caught by police. Also, my seatbelt locked, so I couldn’t teleport. That car sank like a rock, I tell you! But I managed to wriggle free just in time. I might have inhaled some water, though.” Wilford coughs. “But the salt’s good for the skin and all, so I can’t be too upset about it.”

“Jesus christ, Wil.”

“It wasn’t that bad! I didn’t get to keep the dogs, sadly, the police found ‘em while I was escaping the car and I didn’t want to get caught without a good escape plan.”

“As if you had one before.”

“You wound me, Darky!” Wilford coughs again. “Goodness, the ocean sure is bracing. Anyway, I considered that adventure over and went about the rest of my day.”

“I suppose it wasn’t as exciting as your first…adventure, as you said?”

“Oh heavens, no! It was even better! Let me tell you–” Wilford coughs again, a few in a row this time. “Hell, m-must’ve swallowed a fish!” He continues coughing.

“You must’ve just choked on your spit,” Dark says, waiting for Wilford to recover, “It would be far from the first time.”

“H-Hey,” Wilford protests between coughs, but he can’t say anything more. His face starts to turn red, he brings up a hand to thump his chest. It doesn’t work, he keeps coughing. As the seconds tick on, Dark begins to get concerned.

“Wil,” Dark says. More coughing. “Wil!” Dark exclaims, getting out of his chair to go to Wilford. He gives him a thump on the back, trying to clear whatever is making him cough from his system, but it does nothing. Wilford’s expression through the coughing has gone from confusion to shock to panic, and his lips start to lose color.

“What the hell is going on??” Dark demands, both to himself and to Wilford. Wilford doesn’t answer, can’t answer through the hacking cough. Dark doesn’t waste anymore time and teleports him and Wilford to the clinic.

“Dr. Iplier, something’s wrong with Wilford!” Dark shouts into the clinic over Wilford’s coughing. His skin is starting to turn blue, his eyes are bulging, and Dark has to support him to keep him standing.

“I could hear him coughing from across the clinic!” Dr. Iplier shouts back, running into the waiting area. His eyes widen at Wilford’s condition. “What on earth happened to him? Is he choking??”

“He can’t be,” Dark says, helping Dr. Iplier move Wilford to an examination table, “He was just talking to me, and then he started coughing and he couldn’t stop.”

“He wasn’t eating? Chewing gum?” Dr. Iplier palpates Wilford’s throat as best he can, looking for an obstruction. Wilford doesn’t make it easy as he flails and struggles, desperately trying to breathe.

“No,” Dark answers, “It came on out of nowhere! What’s wrong with him??”

“I don’t know yet,” Dr. Iplier says through gritted teeth, “And he can’t wait for me to find out. I’m getting him a breathing tube, you’ll have to help me hold him down.”

Dr. Iplier dashes away to get the tube, and he’s not gone a moment before Wilford’s flailing ceases. He stops coughing, but only because he lacks the strength. His eyes are glassy, his skin is pale, his lips are blue. His mouth gapes open, still searching for air he can’t get.

“Doctor, he’s getting worse!!” Dark yells into the clinic. He looks down at Wilford, takes his hand. “Whatever this is, we’ll fix it, Wil, I swear.”

Wilford couldn’t respond if he tried. He squeezes Dark’s hand back for a long moment, then his eyes roll back and his entire body goes slack.

It’s immediately after that Dr. Iplier returns with the breathing tube. He practically screeches to a stop.

“Goddammit, I was gone for five seconds!!” he yells, angry and frustrated.

“What??” Dark asks, “Wait are you waiting for, put in the tube!”

“It won’t do any good,” Dr. Iplier sighs, “His time is red.”

“Do it anyway!” Dark orders, aura cracking and splitting the air.

“Dark, he’s got twelve seconds,” Dr. Iplier says sadly, “It’s too late.”

Dark’s aura shivers, parts of it breaking like glass as he looks back down at Wilford’s pale face. He grits his teeth in anger.

“Tell me when it hits zero,” he mutters.

The seconds tick by. Dark’s aura continues to churn in the air. He doesn’t take his eyes away from Wilford’s face, doesn’t let go of Wilford’s hand.

“He’s gone,” Dr. Iplier eventually says, after what feels like forever and not long enough. His voice is sad and quiet. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “It’d be pointless to autopsy him, he’ll be back in a couple days, but Dark…is there anything you can tell me about what happened to him? Anything he was doing that could’ve caused this?”

“I don’t know,” Dark growls, head snapping away from Wilford to glare at Dr. Iplier, aura snapping. Dr. Iplier shrinks back a step, but doesn’t look away. “He wasn’t so much as chewing on a pen!” Dark continues, “He was telling me about the _escapades_ he got into today, this ridiculous story about how he stole dogs from a dog park, had a car chase with police, drove off a damn pier–”

“Wait,” Dr. Iplier interrupts, eyes going wide again, “He drove off a pier? Did the car go under?”

“Yes,” Dark answers, “It did. He escaped, and it sounded like he almost drowned, but he didn’t seem bothered by it.”

“Oh, no,” Dr. Iplier mutters, “He inhaled water, didn’t he?”

“He said he did,” Dark answers, brow furrowing, “Why? Do you know what happened?”

“This sounds like secondary drowning,” Dr. Iplier murmurs, “Post-immersion syndrome is the more medical term. The water he inhaled must’ve stayed in his lungs, affecting his oxygen absorption, and eventually making it impossible for him to breathe. He was probably losing oxygen before he started showing symptoms. That’s why he went downhill so fast.” He sighs, runs a hand down his face. “I can’t confirm it without an autopsy, but from what you’ve told me, that’s the most likely cause of death.”

Dark doesn’t reply. He looks back to Wilford. The whole time Wilford was bugging Dark to listen to his story, the whole time he was telling it, he was slowly suffocating. If Dark had been more attentive, if he’d been less reluctant to listen, would he have noticed? He can’t know, now.

“I’ll…I’ll leave you alone with him,” Dr. Iplier says quietly. “I’m sorry,” he says for the second time, at a loss for anything better to say. He returns to the back of the clinic, and then Dark is alone with Wilford.

After he’s gone, Dark stays silent for a stretch. His aura mimics him, listless and quiet. Eventually, he remembers something and sighs.

“You still have my document in your void, you old fool,” Dark mutters, “Now I have to wait two days to get it back.”

But there’s no bite to his tone, no energy, and he still hasn’t let go of Wilford’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment! They absolutely make my day :'3


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